


The words that matter always stay.

by iwantchocopie (hyemiyah)



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-06
Updated: 2015-01-06
Packaged: 2018-03-06 09:21:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3129338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hyemiyah/pseuds/iwantchocopie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Junmyeon's flat is still cold even though he bought fake orange flowers for the living room.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The words that matter always stay.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [airplanewishes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/airplanewishes/gifts).



> Originally written for Baektobaek, and posted [here](http://baektobaek.livejournal.com/7142.html).

 

  
  
Junmyeon's flat is still cold even though he bought fake orange flowers for the living room.  
  
"These are hideous, hyung," Jongdae says while making himself comfortable on Junmyeon's couch.  
  
"Don't they match the green and turquoise pillows?" Junmyeon replies, he'd paid good money for the flowers, and they weren't even real. "The lady at the store told me warm colours would make the living room look... well, warm."  
  
"Are you serious?" Jongdae snorts. "Why would you want your living room to look warm, hyung?"  
  
"It's always so cold in here," Junmyeon say. He has to take showers to escape the cold, but the water turns lukewarm after a while.  
  
"I think what you need is a new air conditioning system." Jongdae is making faces at the pillow he is holding in his hands.  
  
"The one I have now is not that old." It couldn’t be more than three years old. Junmyeon has close to zero experience in air conditioning systems, but he's pretty sure they last longer than three years.  
  
"Yeah, I don't even think it's that cold in here," Jongdae says, dropping the pillow and taking his jacket off. "When are we eating?"  
  
"I've always been sensitive to cold," Junmyeon says, more to himself than to Jongdae, who is yawning.  
  
"Ah, hyung. I'm hungry," Jongdae whines.  
  
There's something about Jongdae's nasal voice that makes Junmyeon feel guilty for not giving him what he wants. Although Junmyeon has always been told one of his peculiarities is feeling guilty when he doesn't give people what they want. "Dinner will be ready in a bit."  
  
"We can order take out if you don't want to cook." Jongdae is well aware of Junmyeon's peculiarities. But Junmyeon knows Jongdae hates take-out food that isn't jjajang, and Junmyeon doesn't feel like eating jjajang this late at night.  
  
"Is this because you don't like my cooking?" Junmyeon can't help but laugh light heartedly; he knows Jongdae means well.  
  
"There's that but also, aren't you tired?" The conversation turns serious all of a sudden. Junmyeon feels a little uncomfortable, having an idea of where Jongdae wants to go with it. "You just got back from working all day. You must be exhausted."  
  
He is. Or he should be. After work, he met a couple of hoobaes that were having trouble with their dissertations. He also brought home some papers that need to be graded. Normally, this would exhaust anybody, but Junmyeon enjoys being busy. It helps him keep going. "I'm not really that tired," he says and realises he sounds old and weary. "What would you like to eat?"  
  
"You work too much, hyung," Jongdae says. "Why do you work so much?"  
  
"I like my job." This is an understatement, Junmyeon doesn’t really hate his job but he is not very fond of it either. He does it because that is what’s expected of him. He chuckles a bit to hide the fact that he's lying. Jongdae stares at him for a long time. He’s definitely not buying it.  
  
"You know what you need, hyung?" Jongdae says, putting his jacket back on. "You need a pet. And I need to go home to my boyfriend, who is probably going to eat dinner alone again. I'm sorry, hyung but I you’re on your own. I'm leaving."  
  
"Ah, yes. I understand." Junmyeon runs a hand through his hair out of habit. "I still have some papers to grade so it's okay. I'm sorry, Jongdae." He is still cold even though he realises he’s wearing his coat.  
  
"Naah, don't be," says Jongdae. He's already putting on his shoes. "It was fun, spending some time with you. Mostly because it made Yixing a little jealous. He was adorable." Jongdae offers him a giant smile, and Junmyeon doesn't know if he's smiling at him or at the memory of a jealous Yixing. "Anyways, I'm out. Don't have too much fun without me. Though I'm 100% sure you won't"  
  
Junmyeon knows Jongdae is right. He's addicted to being alone but he hates feeling lonely. After Han left, he's avoided being by himself as much as Jongdae would indulged him. It's selfish, Junmyeon knows, but he will never admit he leaves the TV on all night because, deep down, he fears once the quietness surrounds him, he's going to break. He can't allow himself to break.  
  
Later that night, Jongdae sends him a text that says, _'I was serious about the pet, hyung. Why don't you ask Jonginie about adopting a puppy? It'd keep you company!'_  
  
Junmyeon smiles at the ridiculous stickers Jongdae attaches to his virtual texts, and for once doesn't dread the idea of turning the lights off to sleep.  
  
  
  


❅❄❆

 

  
"So, what do you think?" Jongdae asks, looking at the tiny thing he's holding in his arms while he makes kissing noises at it. "Isn't she the cutest little thing?" He holds it up to Junmyeon's face and, yes, it might be the cutest little thing.  
"What's this, Jongdae?" Junmyeon's taken aback, he’s just got home from a long day at work. He was heating last night's remaining dinner when Jongdae knocked on his door.  
  
"This is your new pet. She's going to keep you company." Jongdae has got to be joking. Junmyeon is not prepared to have a pet in his flat. Except Jongdae's jokes never go this way.  
  
"Are you kidding?" asks an indignant Junmyeon. "Jongdae, I-"  
  
"You're going to be fine, hyung. Stop hyperventilating." This is Junmyeon's flat, but somehow Jongdae is the one who looks more comfortable in it. He kneels and sets the puppy free, probably to get accustomed to its new surroundings. "She's going to need a name."  
  
It's such a tiny little thing. Junmyeon notices it sort of looks like a very small cloud, all white and fluffy. She stumbles a bit and Junmyeon is trying to be mad at Jongdae, but at the same time he can't help but fall in love with her. So gives up trying not to. "We can call her Byul."  
  
"Boring," Jongdae has the audacity to say. "I was thinking about giving her a real name like, Ramona or Sara. But it's _your dog_ so I guess you get to choose."  
  
Ever since they first met Junmyeon has been fascinated by the way things always seem to go as Jongdae plans. He gets into your life so effortlessly, and everyone just goes along with it. So in the end, Junmyeon keeps the puppy.  
  
  
  


❅❄❆

 

  
The problem with raising a puppy is that it requires a lot of time and effort. Junmyeon could easily get an A+ for effort but he has a very busy schedule.  
  
"You should hire someone," Jongin tells him over the phone, "to walk your dog." Junmyeon hears Jongdae's voice in the background, complaining because Jongin forgot to take out the trash.  
  
"Do you happen to know someone I can trust?" Junmyeon asks. It's always difficult for him to ask for personal favours but he's known Jongdae's little brother for almost as long as he's known Jongdae.  
  
"I can give you the number of a company-" Jongin is cut mid-sentence; Jongdae's nagging sounds a lot closer. _'I told you repeatedly not to forget to take out the trash, Jonginah. What have you been doing all day?'_ Jongin doesn't even bother covering the phone when he replies, “I'm sorry, hyung, okay. But _I'm on the phone._ ” Junmyeon is used to these things by now. Jongin is forgetful. Jongdae is whiny.  
  
"Sorry, hyung. I'll send you the number later," Jongin says. "You can trust them. They helped get Monggu back in shape."  
  
"Thanks, Jonginie," Junmyeon says, realising he will always be Jonginie even if he's grown to be taller than both Junmyeon and Jongdae.  
  
"I'm glad you have Byulie with you, hyung." Jongin's voice is lower, which means he's trying to say something important. "You seemed so... lonely... after... you know." He clears his throat a couple of times. "Jongdae hyung was worried about you."  
  
"I'm glad I have Byulie, too." It's true, even if he finds white hair on his clothes more often than not and has to get rid of his favourite sneakers because they were chewed. Even if he's more tired than ever before, the fact that there's someone waiting for him at home makes him feel better.  
  
  
  
The best part about the company Jongin recommended is that everything can be done online. All Junmyeon has to do is fill an application stating his address, which days and at what time he wants his dog to be taken out, and send his door’s secret password directly to the person responsible for walking his dog. Junmyeon feels a bit uncomfortable about this but he trusts Jongin so he hits send. An hour later he gets an e-mail confirmation with two numbers: one is the identification number of the dog walker and the other one is his phone number.  
  
“Four,” he tells Byul, “that person is going to take care of you when I’m not around.”  
  
  
  


❅❄❆

 

  
One day, Junmyeon finds Han waiting for him in the living room. It's really late at night, later than usual. Junmyeon stayed at school again, grading papers and trying to get things ready for finals. Han hated when Junmyeon brought work home.  
  
The lights are dim, and Han looks so small and lonely on the couch. It somehow mirrors the single cup on the table, which seems to be full yet it looks like Han has already forgotten about it.  
  
"Hey," Junmyeon greets him, sitting next to him without taking off his coat. "How was your day?"  
  
The television is on but Han doesn't seem to be paying attention to what’s on. He's not looking at Junmyeon either.  
  
"You know? I was remembering some things today," Han says, eyes lost on the TV screen. "I remember getting lost and you holding my hand, directing me the wrong way, and I followed you." He takes a deep breath, still not looking at Junmyeon. "Then I said I thought we were wrong. Remember that?" He turns his head and faces Junmyeon. Han's eyes have always been so clear and bright. Junmyeon recalls that was the first thing he noticed about him.  
  
"I do," Junmyeon says, "I was so sure we were going in the right direction..."  
  
"But we weren't. We were wrong, we always were," Han says, it doesn't sound like a reproach, but more like an afterthought. "The last time we talked you said that you took all the decisions. Where we would go for vacations, where to eat, what to do, and I was more than okay with it. Following you and trusting you."  
  
Junmyeon suddenly remembers the first time they met, at a university party. He had been so drawn by Han's gleaming eyes and easy-going personality. They went on a date a week later, Han walked him to his dorm and kissed him, half laughing, under the porch. It's only been three years but that day seems so distant. Junmyeon had no idea what he was doing to Han.  
  
"I laugh at my foolishness, at the fact that there wasn't anything I could do to save us from drowning," Han says, and that's when Junmyeon realises Han's eyes look lifeless. "The thing about heartbreak. The thing about _this_ is that we can't shake it off. We can't peel it off our skins like wet clothes that will make us catch a cold and say, 'I am better, I really am.'"  
  
Han was always a dreamer, he wanted to travel, go places. Take a year off after graduation and see the world. Instead he stayed in Seoul with Junmyeon. Sometimes Junmyeon felt he had cut Han's wings off. Today is confirmation he has.  
  
"Han, I'm sorry," Junmyeon says earnestly.  
  
"I know you are, but don't be." Han's eyes are back on the television. "It was my fault, too. I have become part of the poisoned fabric; it has devoured the cells that were formed the day I was born, long before I had met you. And everything had started with silly flirtations and plans to sit around on a beach on tiny blue blankets. And talk about reading books we never did."  
  
"Our reading list got so long," Junmyeon says to clear the air, though he feels Han did that already.  
  
"I'm going to read them all," Han says, determined. Junmyeon believes him. Han's determination is not a joke.  
  
"I'm sure you will."  
  
  
  
Han leaves the flat the next morning. When Junmyeon comes back from work that night, he realises it feels colder than before.  
  
  
  


❅❄❆

 

  
"So Jongin tells me you have a crush on the guy who walks Byul," Jongdae teases one afternoon. It's the weekend, and for the first time in a long time, Junmyeon doesn't have work to do or hoobaes to help.  
  
"I do not," Junmyeon says as he feels his cheek start to get warm. “I was just curious."  
  
"Curious as in you want to bang him or curious as in you want to be banged by him?" Jongdae asks as he pets Byul.  
  
"I'm not going to answer that." It's only been two weeks, but Junmyeon's curiousness has reached the point of calling Jongin on a whim one day to see if he had some information on who the dog walker could be.  
  
"Junmyeon and number 4 sitting on a tree _K-I-S-S-I-N-G._ " Jongdae singsongs, making Byul dance.  
  
"Don't be ridiculous, Jongdae." Junmyeon is sure he is full on blushing by now. "Let's go eat."  
  
It all started with a simple post-it note left on Junmyeon's fridge the day Byulie took his first walk. Junmyeon had feared all day he was going to find his flat empty once he came back from work. But what he found instead was that it was abnormally warm, and that Byulie had already been fed.  
  
In green ink and messy handwriting, the post-it note said: _'Took Byulie on a thirty-minute walk. She is a really good girl. Ate all her food and took an hour nap.'_ Then it was finished with a big grin smiley and a _'your friendly neighbourhood #4'_ signature.  
  
At first, Junmyeon didn't really think much of it, but as the days went by, he found more and more post-its. Sometimes it was precise information about how Byul had done during the day, but lately, Junmyeon found friendly neighbourhood number 4 left notes telling him about his views on life, how much he enjoyed his job, and Junmyeon's favourites: the little everyday details about the people number 4 met or simply observed—on his walks with Byul, on his way back home, on the train, on his way to class, etc.  
  
 _'earlier today I saw a guy in a military uniform standing outside the train station, in this freezing weather.  
I thought he was waiting for a friend, but he was waiting for his girlfriend.  
he waited for her and yelled a proposal right there.  
people stopped to watch.  
I was standing there too, with my grocery bags, smiling despite myself.  
they hugged for the longest time.  
it was kind of beautiful.'_  
  
  
  


❅❄❆

 

  
Junmyeon goes grocery shopping every Sunday, buys fruit, cereal, and dog food.  
  
Sometimes he goes restless when it's too silent, and the awareness of living on his own hits him again. He looks at the polaroids on his wall. There's one of his father, sitting at a cafe in Hong Kong, wearing a scarf and reading a book. He looks handsome like Junmyeon, but tougher. Junmyeon's too soft around the edges.  
  
Not too far from that picture there is one of Junmyeon's mother wearing a silk handkerchief around her neck. She is surrounded by green leaves and she looks like Junmyeon always remembers her: beautifully sad, the strap of her camera clinging to her shoulder.  
  
The pictures are scotch-taped to the wall. They're silent and distant. Junmyeon hasn't seen his parents in a while but the spaces between them and his cold hands seem to enlarge by the minute. He can see his parents in their youth. He likes to rewind time and doesn't have to close his eyes to see his mother whispering, _'hold still,'_ to his dad on winter days so she could click her camera and retain that instant for a second.  
  
Junmyeon can see how alike he and his mother are, in that burning desire to hold time still between their fingers. How she carried her heavy camera everywhere, the way he holds the journal that his father gave him. The one that holds within its pages every intimate moment he found too brilliant to lose to the past, to forgetfulness, to life.  
  
In his mother's house, Junmyeon finds wooden boxes upon wooden boxes of photographs in envelopes. He knows she hasn't had the strength to see them in so long because it hurts to see the arms of this man, who was her world, wrapped around her in another time. A decade ago, in another country. In millions of countries where she followed him with six suitcases.  
  
Junmyeon imagines her heart shrinking like his own every time he stumbles upon words he wrote about his past. He is scared of distance and silence. He is scared of waking up one day and finding out his heart is broken, so he doesn't give it to anybody.  
  
He keeps his journal closed and tries not to run his fingers through past pages.  
  
Instead he thinks about what else he needs to do to the flat to make it his own. He calls the old carpenter to install wooden bookshelves incorporated into the walls. He can't let go of the dream he had to buy wooden bookshelves with Han, even though just picturing that piece of furniture breaks his heart even more, still.  
  
And again, because there is no greater ache than the ache of the things they didn't do.  
  
The wooden floors of the flat hold a silence that, despite giving Junmyeon moments of clarity, mostly just resound the solitude that he feels.  
  
The solitude his mother felt, the one his father probably feels in the thick Seoul air. All of them are oblivious to the fact that they're all linked to the never ending cycles that are the feelings of sadness and unrequited love; the ones that were probably there since the beginning of time.  
  
  
  


❅❄❆

 

  
It's the first snow of the year and Junmyeon is drinking a cup of tea as he looks outside his window. He watches people interact, feeling like he's not part of the world surrounding him. A couple hug as they walk together, a father zips up the jacket of his son, and a mother blows into the hands of her daughter. Everyone tries to keep their loved ones warm while Junmyeon just sits there, cold, watching it all happen.  
  
Suddenly, Byulie licks his hand, demanding to be petted, and he realises he's not alone anymore. Then he remembers the post-it note on his fridge and the ones at the bottom of his bedside table. The messy handwriting and the smiley faces that make Junmyeon feel something warm tugging at his chest.  
  
He starts leaving responses to friendly neighbourhood number 4's notes that Sunday afternoon. He uses his black fountain pen, the one his mother gave him for his twentieth Birthday, to write about how he spent the afternoon watching the first snow from his window and how pretty everything had looked from over there. Then signs with, _'Byulie's dad,'_ and sticks the note to the fridge.  
  
Jongdae would tease him about being too formal, but it is proper etiquette to use jondaemal when talking to complete strangers. Even if friendly neighbourhood number 4 has written all of his notes in banmal.  
  
  
  


❅❄❆

 

  
Jongdae barges in Junmyeon's flat one afternoon, and urges him to go to Yixing's exhibition with him. It is winter break, and for once Junmyeon had planned to stay home and look over the material for next semester. Not that it's urgent, but Junmyeon likes to plan things ahead.  
  
"You have to come with me, hyung," Jongdae whines, "after all I've done for you."  
  
"I don't know, Jongdae," Junmyeon says as he scratches his neck and sees his resolution faltering. "I have work to do..."  
  
"No, you don't. It's winter break." Byul is trying to get Jongdae's attention so he picks her up and pats her head. "If you don't go then I'll have to listen to Yixing's friends talk about _art_ all afternoon." He makes a disgusted face at Byul. "Plus, you need to get out of this flat. Your crush on the dog walker is cute but you've never seen the guy and you only communicate through post-it notes. You need to interact with real people."  
  
"Aren't you real?" Junmyeon asks. He knows Jongdae is right. Jongdae is always right. It's kind of unnerving.  
  
"I'm an awesome real human being but, unfortunately, I don't count." Jongdae grabs Junmyeon's coat and motions him to put it on. "It's only going to be for a couple of hours. Byul will be alright. You will, won't you, Byulie?" He kneels down and Byul licks his face, while Junmyeon silently puts on his coat.  
  
  
  
Yixing greets them when they get to the venue. It's -3 degrees but Yixing's jacket is unzipped, revealing the tank top he's wearing underneath. It makes Junmyeon shiver.  
  
"Junmyeon hyung, you made it!" Yixing and Junmyeon are only a few months apart, but Yixing still calls him hyung. He sounds so pleased that Junmyeon actually feels good to be there.  
  
"I dragged him out of his flat so all the credit goes to me," Jongdae says. "Where are your works?"  
  
"Ah, yes Jongdae." Yixing says, chuckling a little. "Let me show you my paintings."  
  
Yixing guides them to a corner of the room where a couple of his paintings are being shown. Junmyeon doesn't know much about art but he can tell Yixing is good. One of the paintings is a landscape, probably Yixing's hometown in China, and the other one is a portrait of an old man.  
  
"This is Changsha, the place where I grew up," Yixing explains, "and this is my grandfather, the person I grew up with." Junmyeon is amazed at the fact that Jongdae is not the subject of Yixing's art.  
  
Suddenly he hears someone yell, "Yixing hyung, jjang!" And the three of them turn around, startled, to find a boy with flamboyant clothes and purple hair. He's holding a ridiculous pose, with both of his thumbs up and a confident grin.  
  
"Baekhyun!" Yixing walks over to the guy and gives him a hug. The guy—Baekhyun—hugs Yixing tight and lifts him off his feet, making Yixing giggle loudly. They're making a scene, a couple of people turn to look at them disapprovingly.  
  
"So this is Baekhyun," Jongdae says bitterly, "I finally get to meet Yixing's man crush."  
  
"Aren't you supposed to be Yixing's man crush, Jongdae?" Junmyeon teases, hiding his smile with the back of his hand.  
  
"Shut up, hyung." Jongdae's misery makes Junmyeon stop regretting getting out of his flat.  
  
Yixing brings his friend to where Junmyeon and Jongdae stand, and introduces him as _'his dear good friend.'_  
  
"Hello," Baekhyun says, his words are formal but his posture portrays a more laid-back type of guy. "I'm Byun Baekhyun."  
  
"I'm Kim Jongdae, and this is Kim Junmyeon," Jongdae says in what Jongin classifies as his 'teacher voice.'  
  
"Ah, Jongdae-sshi! You're the red in Yixing hyung's paintings." Now that he mentions it Yixing's paintings do have a lot of red tones.  
  
"I... guess I am." Jongdae replies in a higher tone, Junmyeon can see his shoulders relaxing.  
  
"Baekhyun is a photographer," Yixing says then.  
  
"Amateur photographer, hyung," Baekhyun corrects, "I didn't get to go to art school like you did. Or I did, but only because I worked there." He says the last part softly, like if he were talking to himself.  
  
"But you take really good pictures." Yixing puts so much emphasis in this statement Junmyeon fears his eyes are going to pop out of his face.  
  
"I do, don't I?" Baekhyun crosses his arms and looks pensive. Yixing nods wholeheartedly.  
  
"This is gross," Jongdae tells Junmyeon.  
  
  
  
They end up celebrating in a samgyeopsal restaurant. Baekhyun orders two bottles of makgeolli. Yixing gets tipsy after his first glass and starts blowing in Jongdae's ear, knowing Jongdae is really ticklish there.  
  
"Hyung, stop it." Jongdae only calls Yixing hyung when he's trying to be serious.  
  
"But I really like your ear." Yixing sounds whiny. But not Jongdae whiny, drunk whiny.  
  
"You like everyone's ears," Jongdae says, pushing Yixing's face away from his ear. "Now behave, or I'll take you home and you'll be forever remembered as the guy who got drunk in the first ten minutes of his celebratory party."  
  
Yixing pouts and looks offended. Baekhyun's cooking the meat and Junmyeon can't help but stare at his delicate hands. He has a big mole right above the nail in his left thumb. Junmyeon's eyes follow the mole as Baekhyun wraps a piece of meat in a lettuce. Adding rice, kimchi, and soy sauce instead of red bean paste. He seems to know Yixing well since he knows Yixing can't eat spicy things.  
  
"Here hyung, eat," says Baekhyun while offering Yixing the wrapped lettuce. "It's never good to drink on an empty stomach."  
  
"Ah, Baekhyun, my friend," Yixing says as he chews. "Do you guys know Baekhyun is a really good photographer?"  
  
"You said that already." Jongdae says, sounding a bit annoyed.  
  
"But he is!" Yixing whines. "He really is. You should show them, Baekhyun. Show them!"  
  
"You're embarrassing me, hyung. But okay, I will." Baekhyun takes out his cell phone and starts going through his gallery. Maybe picking out what he thinks are his best shots.  
  
"Junmyeon's mum used to be a photographer," Jongdae says matter of fact.  
  
"Used to be?" Baekhyun sounds confused. He stops staring at his phone screen and looks Junmyeon in the eye. Junmyeon feels a blush creeping up his cheeks. "Is she... dead?"  
  
"No, she's just retired," Junmyeon says, scratching his neck to avoid looking at Baekhyun. His mum stopped taking pictures a while ago, after she divorced his father.  
  
"Ah," Baekhyun says, "that's good. That's she's retired and not dead, I mean. Anyway, here are a couple of my pictures. They're boring, I know. But I just can't get used to digital stuff." He hands Junmyeon the phone first while Jongdae is trying to zip up Yixing's jacket.  
  
The photos are in black and white. Junmyeon can tell they were taken with a film camera. Baekhyun must have taken pictures of the original ones with his cell phone. They're all candid pictures: an old man polishing the shoes of a little kid, a bride taking a break from a photo shoot in the park, a kid in a swimming pool, a man with his cats. They remind Junmyeon of number 4's post-it notes, tiny moments of people's lives. Baekhyun is, indeed, good.  
  
"These are really good," Junmyeon says, sounding a lot more enthusiastic than he had intended. His cheeks burn up and he blames it on the alcohol. Yixing's not the only one with a low tolerance.  
  
"I told you!" Yixing yells. He has managed to unzip his jacket again.  
  
"Uhm... hyung? You're supposed to hand me the phone so I can see, too." Junmyeon realises he still has the phone in his hands.  
  
"Yeah, sorry," He says, drinking half of his glass of water after passing the phone to Jongdae. Baekhyun is looking at him, half amused and half something Junmyeon can't pinpoint.  
  
  
  
Two more bottles of makgeolli later—Baekhyun was very insistent about getting drunk to celebrate Yixing's debut as a painter, even though Yixing was already too drunk to function, draped in Jongdae's arms—Jongdae takes Yixing home and Baekhyun suggests taking a short walk to Junmyeon, to clear their minds.  
  
Junmyeon was too befuddled to say no. Although he has to admit the thought of strolling around the streets of Hongdae with Baekhyun wasn't unpleasant, either.  
  
After sending Jongdae and Yixing off in a taxi, Baekhyun takes Junmyeon's hand and they start walking. It's been a while since Junmyeon walked with someone who isn't Jongdae. It has been longer since Junmyeon walked _hand in hand_ with someone. Even when he was still dating Han, they didn't use to go on dates that often. And they didn't hold hands when they did. Junmyeon has never been good at showing his emotions, but right now he's too drunk to care. All he wants to do is stroke the mole in Baekhyun's thumb; revel in the warmth that Baekhyun's body emits.  
  
"Your hand is so cold, Junmyeon-sshi," Baekhyun says, laughing a little. His cheeks are pink; he reminds Junmyeon of one of Byulie's friends, a Samoyed puppy.  
  
"You can drop the honorific," Junmyeon hears himself saying. He doesn't know if it's the alcohol or the warmth he feels. He's not used to be this direct with people, but there's something about Baekhyun that makes Junmyeon feel comfortable.  
  
"Should I call you hyung, too?" Baekhyun is _flirting. With him._  
  
Junmyeon feels confident so he says, "I don't know, should you?" Baekhyun looks at him and blinks once, twice. They pass a streetlight and Junmyeon can see Baekhyun's face clearly. "How old are you anyway?"  
  
"Twenty-five and a half," Baekhyun says, and he sounds like one of Jongdae's students, _'I'm six and a half, seonsaengnim.'_ Junmyeon feels the urge to pat his head, just like he does with the kids. But his mind starts to feel clearer so he doesn't.  
  
"Hyung is okay, then." When they reach Hongik University, they make a U-turn and start walking back. After walking up the hill their breath is visible.  
  
Baekhyun tells Junmyeon about the time he met Yixing, when he worked in the convenience store in Yixing's university. Yixing forgot to bring his wallet once, and Baekhyun told him he could come back and pay later. This kept happening, though. Baekhyun was curious about Yixing's forgetfulness and his Korean accent, so he started talking to him whenever Yixing dropped by the store. When Baekhyun worked the night shifts, sometimes Yixing kept him company. He talked a lot about Jongdae and drew ordinary daily products on a sketchbook.  
  
Junmyeon is used to listening to people, but Baekhyun's husky voice is soothing. When they get to the main street Baekhyun lets go of Junmyeon's hand, takes out his phone, and hands it to Junmyeon.  
  
"I'd like to walk with you again, hyung," he says, Junmyeon's hand is missing Baekhyun's warmth already. "If you don't mind."  
  
"I don't," says Junmyeon. He really doesn't so he inputs his number under _Kim Junmyeon._  
  
Baekhyun doesn't kiss him like Han did, on their first date. Granted, this wasn't a date, but Junmyeon thinks he would have kissed Baekhyun back.  
  
  
  


❅❄❆

 

  
Junmyeon comes home one night to find Byul playing with a plastic duck that makes a ridiculous sound whenever she chews too hard. The sound seems to both fascinate and scare her.  
  
"What's this?" He asks, lifting her from the floor. He goes to the fridge and finds a new post-it.  
  
 _'there was this friendly guy selling these toys  
on the street the other day.  
I couldn't help but buy one.  
but then I remembered I don't have a dog  
so I thought I'd bring it here and see if Byulie likes it.  
I think she's become addicted to the sound it makes.  
I hope you don't mind.'_  
  
Junmyeon doesn't mind, of course. He leaves a bottle of vitamin for friendly neighbourhood number 4 with a little note that says, _'Winter is almost here. Make sure you don't catch a cold.'_  
  
  
  


❅❄❆

 

  
The day after Yixing's exhibition Junmyeon goes to his mother's house to have lunch with her. He finds her in the kitchen, an apron wrapped around her waist and her hands full of dough. She's making janchi guksu, Junmyeon's favourite. He greets her with a kiss on the cheek and pours himself a glass of water.  
  
"You look good, Junmyeonie," his mother tells him. She always wears make up despite the fact that she never leaves the house.  
  
"I feel good," Junmyeon says. It's been a while since he did; he thinks his mother can relate to that.  
  
"Is there a special reason for that?" She asks, rolling the dough into a spiral and cutting it evenly. She has done this so many times her movements are almost mechanic.  
  
Junmyeon debates whether or not telling his mother about Baekhyun. After all, she was always very fond of Han. In the end he opts to tell her the truth. He and Han broke up more than a year ago; Junmyeon has the right to move on.  
  
"I met someone," he says, trying to sound as sincere as he feels even though Baekhyun already is more than _someone._  
  
His mother sighs. Junmyeon didn't expect her to take it easy. She still has hope for Han and him. But Han is already settled in Beijing, his hometown, after travelling for a while. He has sent Junmyeon a few postcards, telling him about the places he was visiting—places they were supposed to visit together.  
  
"Don't do that." Junmyeon tells his mother. "Why can't you be happy for me?"  
  
"I'm sorry, Junmyeonie," his mother says regrettably, putting the knife down and looking up at him. "I didn't mean to sound like I wasn't happy for you. I only want the best for you, always." Junmyeon takes note of the wrinkles in the corners of his mother's eyes. She's getting old. They all are. She shouldn't be so sad. "Are you happy? Does this person make you happy?"  
  
"I don't know yet," Junmyeon says. He still has the glass in his hand even though it's empty.  
  
"Well, I hope you find out soon." She's finished cutting all the dough and now she's putting the water to boil. Junmyeon doesn't tell her, but he hopes so, too.  
  
  
  
Before his parents’ divorce, Junmyeon's childhood home was filled with his mother's photographs. Right after his father moved out of the house, his mother took them all down and stored them in wooden boxes, in the attic.  
  
When Junmyeon was little, he used to think his mother left a little of her heart in every picture she took. But after his father left he began to realise his mother's heart had been with his father all along. He was the main subject of her work.  
  
Junmyeon thinks love is too complex to put it all in one place. He understands why Yixing doesn't make Jongdae the main subject of his paintings, but instead splashes a bit of red in each of them.  
  
It's ridiculous, Junmyeon knows, but part of him wants to be the red in Baekhyun's photographs. Even if they're essentially in black and white.  
  
  
  


❅❄❆

 

  
Winter break means Junmyeon has time to walk Byul every day. Thus there is no need for friendly neighbourhood number 4 to come to Junmyeon's flat.  
  
Junmyeon can't say he doesn't miss the post-it notes—because he does—but Baekhyun's picked up the habit of sending him random text messages that keep him from thinking too much about the dog walker.  
  
 _'Work is slow, so I'm going to be free this whole week. Do you want to grab a coffee later, hyung?'_  
  
It's 3pm and Junmyeon is still in his pyjamas. However, the promise of getting to see Baekhyun's thumb mole in broad daylight is enough to get him get out of bed. When Junmyeon is in the shower, he remembers the last note friendly neighbourhood number 4 left, and smiles to himself, getting shampoo in his mouth.  
  
 _'this one cat, Mocha,  
she wears a red bow and sleeps with me when I take naps at work.  
and then I wake up and sneeze and sneeze and sneeze again.  
I have discovered I am allergic to cats, which is a bit sad because  
right now I feel lonely, and she did keep me good company.'_  
  
  
  
Baekhyun is late. Or Junmyeon is too early. It's been too long since Junmyeon did this, felt _this._ He's rusty and can't stop fidgeting with the scarf resting on his legs. He's wearing a shirt and dress pants, which he realises now, are not a good choice for this coffee shop.  
  
Junmyeon notices he looks out of place. The café is filled with young people. Not that he is old; he is only twenty six. He's nervous, he knows, so he tries to calm down by cleaning the remaining grains of sugar on the table.  
  
"It's so cold outside," Baekhyun says as takes the seat opposite Junmyeon. "Hi, hyung, long time no see."  
  
"You changed your hair." It's brown, now, and the bangs fall on Baekhyun's face. It reminds Junmyeon of an otter hound.  
  
"Yeah, those kinds of colours fade quickly." Baekhyun blows his hair out of his face, and it looks so soft Junmyeon wants to touch it. "You haven't changed at all."  
  
Junmyeon covers his mouth with the back of his hand as he laughs. "I'm not very good with change."  
  
"Thank you, captain obvious," Baekhyun says like he has figured out all about Junmyeon in just a week and a with only a few text messages. Somewhere in the back of Junmyeon's mind, he thinks that maybe he has.  
  
  
  
The café gets crowded after half an hour. Junmyeon has always disliked crowds, they make him feel suffocated. He has no idea if Baekhyun notices but he insists they get out of there and go to Ttukseom Hangang Park instead.  
  
"The weather is so nice today," he says, "I want to take a couple of pictures." He's right. Junmyeon’s spent the last couple of days at home, in his bed, wrapped in a cocoon of blankets. Byul curled up in a ball next to him. The weather report said the temperatures reached a year low of -14 degrees.  
  
Junmyeon ends up following Baekhyun. He doesn't have to think about which the right way to the train station is. When they get there, he doesn't have to think about which is the best route to get to where Baekhyun wants to go. He's never been to that part of the river.  
  
The train is almost empty; they end up sitting side by side. Baekhyun focuses on the board, counting how many stations are left. Junmyeon focuses on how Baekhyun's body feels, pressed against Junmyeon's left side. He realises he has only known Baekhyun for a week, yet he already trusts him enough to go through the hell of crowded coffee shops and walks along Hangang in ridiculously low temperatures. He wonders if this is how Han felt when they were together.  
  
"We're here," Baekhyun tells him, squishing his hand and offering him a devastating smile. Junmyeon smiles back. They both stand up to wait for the doors to open, and Junmyeon can see their reflections in the window. Baekhyun's slightly taller than him, and his big red duffle coat contrasts Junmyeon's black wool one. The train shifts, and they both stumble a bit. When they steady themselves, Junmyeon notices the back of his hand is brushing against Baekhyun's. Neither of them move until it's time to get out of the train. Junmyeon begins to think he could get used to this.  
  
  
  
"If this were a movie, we would love this scene." Baekhyun is lying on the icy ground and Junmyeon is sitting next to him, feeling the warmth of the hot packs he's carrying in the back pockets of his pants.  
  
"Mmmh," Junmyeon murmurs. He is enjoying this, despite the cold. He enjoys not having to use words to communicate with Baekhyun.  
  
They are silently—which is odd for Baekhyun, who always seems to have something to say—looking at the sky. The sun went down faster than they thought it would. Junmyeon scribbles into his journal that this is the most comfortable silence he has ever experienced. Baekhyun immortalises the moment with the click of his camera.  
  
Junmyeon remembers a particular conversation he had with his mother, when he was still a teenager. He had asked her the story about one of Junmyeon's favourite pictures of her. The one in which she is in a plaza, somewhere in Europe, wearing a white dress and looking like a movie star; surrounded by birds, her arms stretched wide open.  
  
He listened to his mother as he sat across from her, eating thin lemon cookies that melted in his mouth. She was twenty four, in Venice, waiting to get into a gondola with her group of friends. She was running and yelling, _'Wait for me, wait for me,'_ and laughing the way she laughed when she was being sincere. She didn't even notice that a picture had been taken. A few days later, she was walking around the same place where vendors sold black and white pictures. She saw her face and the vendor stared at her. _'That's me,'_ she said, and laughed again. Only then did the vendor, an older man with thick glasses, said, _'Yeah, it is,'_ and gave her the picture for free.  
  
Now the beautiful memory, captured in a moment of pure joy, is buried along hundreds other pictures in wooden boxes. Junmyeon misses the way his mother used to laugh, openly, as if she didn't have a care in the world. Probably because she was still married to his father back then, and she was convinced she didn't need anything else.  
  
Just then, he hears Baekhyun laugh at some kids posing for his camera. The way Baekhyun laughs—fully and clear—reminds Junmyeon of his mother.  
  
"My heart isn't big enough to completely contain you," Junmyeon says. He takes advantage of the fact that Baekhyun has turned his back on him to take pictures of the children and he doesn’t have to look him in the eye.  
  
"I am larger than life." Baekhyun jokes. His voice shaking a little despite the confidence he tries to convey with a smile. "Does this mean you like me, hyung?"  
  
"Yes," Junmyeon says, "yes, I do."  
  
"Good. Because I like you, too."  
  
  
  


❅❄❆

 

  
"So are you two dating now?" Jongdae asks, bluntly, one afternoon during lunch. They are at Junmyeon and Jongdae's favourite bunsik restaurant, from back when they were in college.  
  
"I think we're still in the previous stage," Baekhyun says, unfazed, over a mouthful of tteokbokki. This is one of the reasons why Junmyeon likes him so much; he seems to be immune to Jongdae.  
  
"But are you going to date or not?" Jongdae presses. Yixing steals a piece of kimbap from Jongdae's plate, seemingly oblivious to the whole affair.  
  
"Is this an interrogation?" Baekhyun turns to look at Junmyeon. "Did you bring me here to be interrogated by your friend, hyung?" He's faking indignation. Junmyeon grabs a napkin and cleans the sauce stain on Baekhyun's cheek.  
  
"You're avoiding answering the question," Jongdae says, forceful. He slaps Yixing's hand, not allowing him to steal more of his food.  
  
"Now, now. Children," Yixing suddenly says, "Behave. Be good to each other. We're all good friends." He ends his spontaneous speech with a closed-eye smile that shows his deep dimple. Jongdae shakes his head and face palms, next to him.  
  
Junmyeon is just watching the whole scene, amused. It's been a while he enjoyed spending time with the people he is close with.  
  
"I think Junmyeon hyung is like the rain: quiet and gentle," Baekhyun says absentmindedly, without even looking Junmyeon in the eye. Witnessing how easy it is for Baekhyun to strip each one of Junmyeon's layers makes his heart skip a beat. "And sad."  
  
Junmyeon covers his mouth with the back of his hand as he laughs nervously. Baekhyun turns to look at him. Junmyeon can't do anything but blush and fall a little more in love with this guy, whose cheeky smile reminds him of a puppy.  
  
"Fair enough," Jongdae says, stealing a piece of Yixing's sundae.  
  
"Does this mean Junmyeon hyung no longer has a crush on his dog walker?" Of course it’d be Yixing the one to blurt out something like that at this time.  
  
"You're cheating on me?" Baekhyun asks. He sounds confused but there's something else in his voice, something Junmyeon has come to know well. Something resembling disappointment and sadness.  
  
"I'm not!" Junmyeon says, defensively. "I mean... it was not a crush. Not really."  
  
"Oh my God." Baekhyun puts his chopsticks down, places his hands around his waist, and blows the hair out of his eyes.  
  
"Guys, wait. Was I not supposed to ask this?" Yixing probably is the one who's most confused right now, or ever.  
  
Jongdae looks very amused. "Junmyeon hyung doesn't even know what he looks like," he says. "He's never met the guy. Don't worry."  
  
"Is this true?" Baekhyun looks so taken aback. His hair is messy and his hands are ever so dainty. All Junmyeon can think of is kissing his doubts away, reassure him that friendly neighbourhood number 4 had only been that: a friend. Someone he will probably never meet. The person who walks Junmyeon's dog for him when he's too busy to do it.  
  
"Yes, it is," Junmyeon says, laughing freely, without bothering to cover his mouth with his hand. "I have never met friendly neighbourhood number 4, and I probably never will."  
  
"Wait... what?" Baekhyun asks. He sounds genuinely baffled now; it makes Junmyeon start to worry. "How do you know friendly neighbourhood number 4?"  
  
"He is the person who walks my dog." Across the table, Jongdae and Yixing have gone back to eating.  
  
"That's not possible..." Baekhyun says, incredulous. "Hyung, are you Byulie's dad?"  
  
"What are the odds," Jongdae says, unamused. He looks like he could be more interested in his food than in what is happening in front of his eyes. Junmyeon's pretty sure he is.  
  
"Did you know about this, Jongdae?" Junmyeon's odeng has probably gone cold by now; he still feels a little lightheaded from the shock. Baekhyun and friendly neighbourhood number 4 are the same person.  
  
"No, I didn't." Jongdae feigns offense.  
  
"He didn't," Yixing repeats.  
  
Baekhyun starts laughing, then. He rests a hand on Junmyeon's shoulder and says, a little breathless, "I thought you were an old ahjussi."  
  
"What?" Junmyeon finds himself laughing, too. Baekhyun's laughter is contagious.  
  
"He is," Jongdae says, even though nobody asked him to join in the conversation.  
  
"Hyung, there are only pictures of old people in your flat. Also, you wrote in jondaemal using a fountain pen," Baekhyun is so close Junmyeon can see the little freckles on his face. "And you left me a bottle of vitamin."  
  
"He would." It's Yixing the one who, uninvitedly, joins the conversation this time.  
  
But Baekhyun ignores the rest of the world, eyes only focused on Junmyeon. "Hi," he says, and yes, Junmyeon is very much in love.  
  
"Hello."  
  
  
  


❅❄❆

 

  
Being with Baekhyun is easy, too easy, almost. He fills all the emptiness in Junmyeon's life, gives it meaning.  
  
Junmyeon starts writing in his journal, again. He's always been told people write better when they're feeling sad, but with Junmyeon is the complete opposite. He only is able to write when he feels good.  
  
"Do you think they knew?" Baekhyun asks him one day, in the spring. "Jongdae and Yixing hyung?" Junmyeon left his work early to find Baekhyun in the park, near Junmyeon's flat, walking Byul.  
  
"I don't know," Junmyeon says, laughing a little. They're walking to Junmyeon's flat. The weather is turning warm, just the way Junmyeon likes.  
  
"I think Yixing hyung did." Baekhyun hands the leash to Junmyeon and kneels to tie his shoelaces. "That traitor."  
  
Junmyeon watches Baekhyun as he uses the bunny-ears method and not the around-the-tree one, that Junmyeon uses. "To be honest, I have no idea what goes on Yixing's mind."  
  
"Don't let yourself be fooled by Yixing hyung," Baekhyun says, standing up and asking for the leash back. "He is incredibly perceptive, despite always looking unobservant."  
  
Baekhyun's natural ability to read people will never stop amusing Junmyeon.  
  
"I think that's why he and Jongdae are perfect for each other, they're complements."  
  
It's so nice, to be walking with Baekhyun while the sun is slowly setting. The sky is all different shades of red, and Junmyeon thinks he finally figures out why Yixing uses that colour to portray Jongdae, and why he would use that same one for Baekhyun. They're both incandescent, full of life, glowing in front of their eyes.  
  
  
  


❅❄❆

 

  
"Why didn't you bring your new boyfriend with you?" His mother asks. It's been a while since he last saw her, so he decided to pay her a visit. She's impeccable, as usual. She hasn't left the house in so long her skin has turned very pale.  
  
"You should leave the house, mother," Junmyeon tells her, “get your body to produce some melanin.” He's finding it easy to speak his mind. It must be Baekhyun's influence. "Baekhyun had to work. He's a photographer, you know. Takes really good pictures." This has been the first time in a very long time Junmyeon's told this much to his mother. Their conversations have grown distant over the years. Sometimes Junmyeon wonders if he loves his mother or if he just loves the memory of her, back when she was cheerful and free-spirited. Or maybe it's not that he doesn't love her now, it's just that he doesn't like what she has become. How she has let the pain consume her life this much.  
  
"Then I hope you don't let him go," she says, "not like you did with Han."  
  
His mother always knows how to hurt him.  
  
"Why do you have to do this, mother?" Junmyeon says, showing he's been hurt by her words. "Why can't you just be happy for me?"  
  
"I just don't want you to make the same mistakes I did, Junmyeonie." Is his mother crying? Junmyeon thinks she's crying. He hasn't seen her cry in almost ten years. "You should've held on to Han. I think he was waiting for you to follow him."  
  
Junmyeon remembers the postcards Han sent him after their break up, and comes to the horrible realization that his mother might be right. All the postcards showed exactly where Han was. Junmyeon was too absorbed in his own sadness to see what Han was trying to do. He feels sick. He needs Baekhyun. But Baekhyun is working and Junmyeon can't let himself break. Not in front of his mother.  
  
"I'm leaving," he tells her, and sends Baekhyun a text, asking for his whereabouts.  
  
  
  
In the taxi, Junmyeon's mind begins to race with thoughts. In high school, his art teacher told him he was very good at drawing shadows. For a long time after that, Junmyeon thought he was going to end up alone for the rest of his life. He had always thought he was like his mother, only now he realises he was his father all along.  
  
  
  
Dongdaemun is packed with people. There seems to be an event at Cheonggyecheon Stream. Junmyeon starts to panic, thinking he won't be able to find Baekhyun in the crowd. He gets to the Saebyeokdari Bridge when he sees Baekhyun, a few meters in front of him.  
  
"Hyung, what's wrong?" Baekhyun asks, his voice is filled with worry.  
  
"Don't come closer," Junmyeon yells. Baekhyun is so real, and he is _there._ And Junmyeon is his father. "Don't cross that line!" he commands, pointing at a line in the pavement that separates them. Junmyeon turns his back on Baekhyun, so he can’t see Junmyeon cry.  
  
"Okay," he hears Baekhyun say. Then there's only silence, and the feeling of Junmyeon's tears in his cheeks.  
  
Junmyeon stays there, shaking. Looking at the floor and thinking he is his father. He sabotages his own relationships, runs away from the people that love him once he feels it gets too real. Han hadn't left him. He had left Han, long ago, when they moved in together and Junmyeon started feeling suffocated at the idea of sharing his life with someone.  
  
"Hyung," Baekhyun says, wiping away Junmyeon's tears. "What's wrong?"  
  
"How did you get here?" Junmyeon asks, bewildered. "I told you not to cross that line." He doesn't push Baekhyun's hand away, though.  
  
"I didn't," Baekhyun tells him, sounding a little breathless. Junmyeon sees his reflection in Baekhyun's eyes. "I walked all the way around."  
  
He must be kidding. The next bridge is approximately a kilometre away. "What's wrong, hyung? You're scaring me."  
  
"I'm sorry," Junmyeon says, laughing because even though Junmyeon tried to push Baekhyun away, he still made his way back to Junmyeon. There’s a lot Junmyeon wants to say. _‘Sometimes I feel like a fraud. Sometimes I feel like I am fooling you. When I think I can write, when I think I can be a good boyfriend, when I fool myself into thinking that I am going to be okay.’_ But Baekhyun came back for him and that makes Junmyeon feel like he’s going to be fine. So instead he says, "I love you."  
  
"You should," Baekhyun takes his hand off Junmyeon's cheek to hold his hand. "I just ran all the way back here."  
  
"How did you find me?" Junmyeon asks, looking at the streets, filled with people. "It's so crowded."  
  
"The heart will always find the way back to its favourite place,” Baekhyun says, squeezing Junmyeon’s hand a little and making him feel lightheaded.  
  
Junmyeon kisses Baekhyun like it’s the last time. Baekhyun, however, tastes like a new beginning.  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> As always, thank you Alicia, for looking over this and making it better.  
> And thank you Sera and Emi, for your patience and encouragement.


End file.
